For the Love of Two
by Cke1st
Summary: It has been a year and a half since Victoria Van Dort left the Land of the Living forever. Victor is so distraught that he's seriously considering giving up his life in exchange for love... but whose love? Warning: character deaths (but that's not so bad in a story like this). Rated T for brief allusions to adult themes; the language is all K.
1. Chapter 1

**For the Love of Two** Chapter 1

_A/N  
It has been a year and a half since Victoria Van Dort left the Land of the Living forever. Victor is so distraught that he's seriously considering giving up his life in exchange for love... but whose love? Warning: character deaths (but that's not so bad in a story like this). Rated T for brief allusions to adult themes; the language is all K._

**o**

Victor and Victoria Van Dort had a very happy marriage, according to the few people who cared.

His parents paid the new couple little attention. They were so thrilled at being included in the newest edition of _Burke's Peerage_, socializing with the nobility, and being invited to join all the right clubs and societies that they didn't have much time to keep track of their son and daughter-in-law. They'd never paid him that much attention anyway, so this wasn't much of a change. Her parents had even less inclination to follow the doings of the new couple. They finally had the money to make some much-needed repairs on the old manse, plus some long-overdue improvements, like hiring an artist to paint some properly flattering portraits of themselves. Victor and his precious Vicki were left to their own devices, and that suited them perfectly. For the first time in their lives, each of them had found someone else who loved them and cared about them, and they reveled in it. They didn't even try to join any of the clubs and societies that his wealth and her lineage entitled them to. They were quite happy spending all their time together in the smallish but well-made mansion he'd bought for her, enjoying his piano playing and each other's company.

When the doctor informed her, about ten months after the wedding, that she was in the family way, she and her husband were both thrilled (although he fainted when he heard the news). Both sets of parents were quietly pleased that their family lines would go on; they all assumed she would give her husband a son, because that was what respectable young ladies did for their husbands. Victor picked out some little girls' names, just in case. They turned one of the upstairs bedrooms into a nursery, and began looking for a nursemaid to join their maid in the servant's wing of the mansion.

But in her eighth month, something went wrong. Victor had called a cab as quickly as any human could, and Vicki had been rushed to the hospital. The doctors did what little they could. But after two hours, the surgeon stepped out of the operating theater, shook his head, and said, "I'm sorry."

Victor scarcely remembered the funeral, or much else from that time. His parents had said the customary words of consolation, then wandered over toward a young lord and his lady who were reputed to be among the Queen's favorites. The Everglots' words of consolation boiled down to, "We assume we won't be seeing much of you anymore; is that correct?" He couldn't remember how he'd answered, or if he'd answered at all. It didn't matter anyway. The joy and the meaning of his life were gone, snatched away, never to return.

It might be fair to say that the Van Dort mansion became haunted at that time, because its principal occupant was more of a ghost than a living soul. He had no desire or energy to do anything. His drawing ink dried up and was not replaced; the only reason his beloved piano wasn't covered in dust was that the maid dusted it daily, as though it were a religious icon of some kind. He was fortunate that his parents had given him a sizable sum of money to live on, as befitted a young gentleman. If he'd had to work for a living, he certainly would have starved.

**o**

Most people adjusted fairly quickly to being dead. Once the initial shock wore off, the advantages of the situation – no more hunger, no more pain, no more sickness, and the fact that one had to die only once and never deal with the whole nasty mess again – outweighed the disadvantages. Victoria Van Dort, née Everglot, was one of the few who did not adjust well. She cared little for her own condition, or the fact that both of her hands were now skeletal; her recurring phrase was, "Poor Victor!" She fretted and worried endlessly about how he would get by without her.

Someone finally directed her to the tower in the center of the town. Elder Gutknecht lived there, sometimes ruled from there, and occasionally dispensed good advice from there. He also was a storehouse of mysterious knowledge. If anyone could help her, it was the Elder.

He listened to her entire story, nodding politely in several places, before answering. "Free passage between the Land of the Living and the Land of the Dead isn't normally allowed. The last time we tried it was at Victor and Emily's wedding, and it turned the entire town upside-down. The living were glad to see their deceased loved ones again, but then they had to go through the grieving all over again when we all returned to our home afterward. I'm sorry, but I don't think you should go to see your Victor again."

Victoria scowled. It wasn't a threatening scowl; there wasn't much threatening about any part of her. "Well, if I can't go to him, is there some way I could at least see him? I need to know if he's all right!"

"Hmm," the Elder said. "Let me think about that for a moment." He dropped a shiny red gemstone into a mortar, ground it to powder with a pestle, weighed out a precise amount of the powder in a balance, then dropped the rest of the powder into his chalice of wine and drank it. "There's nothing like some ruby dust for ruby-red lips... but I doubt it will do much good in my case. Ahh, I have just the thing! Follow me, please." He led her through a narrow passage between stacks of books to a little-used chamber behind his tall desk.

"A telescope?" she marveled. "I've always wanted to look through one of those."

"This is a special telescope," the Elder said as he removed the dust covers from the lenses. "Most such instruments can look at other worlds, but this one can be pointed at only one world – the Land of the Living. It allows you to hear, as well as see, things that are going on in that land. If you know where your Victor is, you can watch him for a few minutes, if you wish."

"I do!" she exclaimed. He stepped aside as she eagerly put one eye to the eyepiece and swung the telescope around until it was pointed at her former home. She adjusted the knobs without taking her eye away from the eyepiece, and soon found who she was looking for.

Victor was slowly pacing up and down the length of their mansion, his hands behind his back, his posture stooped over. He didn't look around at the potted plants or the paintings on the wall (she'd picked those out herself). He just went back and forth, and back and forth, seemingly without an end. At last, she heard the maid's voice call him to supper. He sighed and changed his direction to head for the dining room.

"But... he didn't speak!" she exclaimed. "How can I know for sure how he's feeling if I can't hear him talk?"

The Elder gave a sigh of his own. "I have reason to believe that, if you come back on two Friday nights from today, you will hear him speak."

"I'll be here!" she promised. "Uhh... what day is today?"

"Wednesday," Gutknecht answered as he replaced the scope's dust covers. "Yes, it's hard to keep track of the days here. No sun, no moon, no Sunday edition of the newspaper... no newspaper at all, actually... so I'll see you in a week and two days?"

"I'll find a way to keep track of the days," she said earnestly as she left. She did, too. She could barely contain her excitement as the Elder led her to the telescope that Friday night.

"Don't adjust the scope," he cautioned her. "It's already pointed in the right direction. Just look through it. I can't promise that you'll like what you see and hear, but you will see and hear the truth."

She did as he suggested. It was nighttime in the Land of the Living, and the telescope wasn't aimed at her house this time, but at a graveyard. It looked familiar, and yet strange. As she watched, a heartbreakingly-familiar silhouette entered her field of view. He was carrying two bouquets of flowers. He stopped next to one headstone, knelt down next to it, and laid one of the bouquets at its base. She read the name on the stone; it was difficult in the dark.

"That's... that's my grave!" she exclaimed. The sound of her own voice startled her. She turned to Gutknecht. "He can't hear me, can he?"

"No, this telescope does not work both ways," he said somberly. She turned her eye back to the scope.

"Oh, Vicki," he sighed. "I thought I'd finally found something in life that was worth living for, and that something was you. Now you're gone, and who am I supposed to live for? My parents are talking about finding me another nice girl, now that a socially decent time has passed. But I don't want another girl! She could never be like you. I don't want to live with someone who says all the right things, and goes to all the right places, and knows all the right people. I just want you."

He sighed again. "You've spoiled me, Vicki. I can never hold you again, and I don't want to hold anybody else." He traced the letters of her name on the stone with his fingertip.

She turned to face Gutknecht. "I don't understand. What is the second bouquet for?"

"Keep watching, if you are willing," the Elder replied.

When she turned back to the telescope, Victor had stood up and was walking away from the gravestone. He went into the nearby forest, which seemed very foreboding. After a while, he stopped by a hole in the ground. Time and the elements had washed away the harsh edges of the hole; some ferns were growing out of it. He knelt and laid the second bouquet next to it.

"Emily... I'm glad I set you free, but I'm sorry I broke your heart. If things had been different, if there was no Victoria Everglot, I know you could have made me happy. You were dead, but even so, you were more alive than any other girl I've ever met, except one. Maybe I could have made you happy, too. I guess we'll never know." Again he sighed. "Is it possible I could meet a nice girl who's alive, and who will stay that way for a while?" After a few seconds, he stood and brushed the dirt off his knees. "My servant girl is wondering why I always come home on Friday nights with such dirty pantaloons." He blew a gentle kiss toward the hole, then another one towards Victoria's stone, and slowly slumped back toward his home.

"I warned you that you might not like what you hear." Elder Gutknecht's voice startled her.

"I'm not afraid of the truth," Victoria said, "and I'm not afraid of Emily. It's true that, once or twice, he called her name in his sleep. But he married me, not her, and he called my name much more often than hers. But I have one question. You told me not to adjust the telescope. How did you know where it should be pointed?"

"I don't know things like that for certain," Gutknecht said slowly. "I don't pry into other people's private lives. I just had a strong feeling that the scope was left pointing in the right direction by the last person who used it. You see, someone else has been watching Victor, too."


	2. Chapter 2

**For the Love of Two** Chapter 2

The Land of the Dead is a large place. It has to be – the population swells every day, and no one ever leaves. Finding a particular person, if you don't know where that person is, can be like looking for a needle in a haystack while blindfolded. But Victoria Van Dort could be very determined when she wanted to be, and from some of the things Victor had said, she knew some likely places to find the one she was looking for.

She finally found her in a run-down night club called the Ball and Socket, alone in the dark after everyone else had gone home. She was sitting at the piano, playing a sad melody with her bony left hand while she leaned her head on her right arm. Even for a dead person, she looked utterly lifeless.

"Emily," Victoria said.

Without turning to face her, Emily said, "Would you be willing to leave me alone, whoever you are?"

"I think being alone is the problem, not the solution, isn't it?"

Emily turned. "It had to be you," she said without emotion. Her beauty still made Vicki feel like she had "the face of an otter in disgrace," as her father used to describe her, even though she knew it wasn't true. Emily's hair was stringy and badly in need of washing, two of her limbs were skeletal, and cuts in her left cheek and her right side showed bones underneath, but even though Victoria was better-preserved, she knew she could never compare to this other girl in appearance. She sometimes wondered what Victor had seen in her, that he'd chosen her and not Emily when he'd had the choice.

"Do you know much about being alone?" Emily asked.

"I spent most of my life alone," Victoria answered. "My parents never had time for me, I had no brothers or sisters when I was growing up, and my nursemaid wasn't allowed to get too friendly with me. 'It's inappropriate,' my mother would tell me. The year and a half I spent with Victor was the only time in my life when I wasn't alone."

"A year and a half," Emily repeated bitterly. "I couldn't hold onto him for a _day_ and a half! After all those years, trapped in a hole in the ground, unable to move, unable to see, unable to do anything except dream of a man who could undo what Lord Barkis did to me... and when I finally found him, you'd already claimed him as your own. Don't talk to me about being alone! Why are you here? Do you really need to torture me some more?"

"I'm here because we've both been watching Victor through the Elder's telescope," Vicki replied, trying to keep any edge out of her voice. "We have that in common."

"Through the telescope?" Emily suddenly noticed Vicki's bony hands. "You're... you're dead! I don't understand – you were still so young! There's not a mark on you! What brought you to this place?"

"I died in childbirth," Victoria said sadly. "They couldn't even save the baby. If they could, maybe it would have been worth it. But there's something I don't understand, too. We watched you fly away to the moon as a flock of butterflies. Why are _you_ still here?"

"Butterflies," Emily said mockingly. "They love to fly toward the light, just like some silly girls love the idea of seeing the moon. I got my little joyride to the heavens, but it didn't last. No butterfly can make it to the moon, and no one can escape from the Land of the Dead. As soon as they had flown as high as they could, they fell back to earth, and when they'd all fallen, I wound up right back here. Flying to the moon on butterflies' wings is just another one of those silly, impossible dreams that can never come true. I have lots of those." She struck a discord on the piano. "I suppose you're here to tell me to stop watching your husband."

"I don't think I'm allowed to tell you that," Victoria replied meekly. "You see, he isn't my husband anymore. He made me a promise – to love me, honor me, cherish me, and to forsake all others, until death us do part. He kept his promise. But now, death has parted us. I don't have any more claim on him than you do."

Emily thought about that for a second. "Then why are you here?"

"You've been watching Victor for longer than I have, I think," Vicki answered. "I need to know if he's always that sad when he visits... us... on Friday nights."

"You're asking me to confide in you about Victor?" Emily couldn't believe it. "Why would you ask me to do something like that? I'm your rival!"

"Not anymore," Vicki said softly. "Neither of us can ever touch him again. We aren't competing against each other for his hand. I just want him to be happy somehow. I think that's what you want, too."

"There's nothing either of us can do about it," Emily almost whispered, "except for what we've already done. If we hadn't shown him what a real lady can be like, he could probably be happy with some plump little society debutante with her nose in the air and her hand groping for his wallet. If he's unhappy, it's partly our fault."

"Is there nothing we can do for him?" Victoria asked anxiously.

"Not without breaking all the rules," Emily said with a shake of her head. She turned back to the piano and began playing the slow, sad first movement of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." "We're dead. We're done with the living. That's how it's supposed to work."

"Then why is it so hard to do it?" Vicki sighed.

"Because we left a part of ourselves with him," Emily said sadly. "If my hand comes off while I'm playing the piano, I can reconnect it, but how do I reclaim the piece of my heart that's still with him in the Land of the Living? I gave it willingly, and now I can't take it back."

Victoria could only nod. "The two of us are the only ones in this land... the only ones anywhere... who know what it's like to love Victor Van Dort, and then lose him forever."

"I admit, I was watching him two Friday nights ago," Emily murmured.

"I kind of figured that. I wondered why the Elder wouldn't let me watch him that Friday, but made me wait a week. He's probably trying to keep us from bumping into each other."

"A meeting like that would be awkward in the Land of the Living," Emily said.

"It _was_ very awkward, if you recall," Vicki agreed. "But being dead does strange things to a girl's perspective. How about if, this Friday, we go to see the Elder together? I'll watch Victor when he's talking to me, and then I'll give up the telescope so you can watch him while he's talking to you. That way, we can both watch him every week."

"There isn't even the tiniest bit of jealousy in you?" Emily marveled.

"That died along with the rest of me," Victoria said firmly. "All I want now is to see Victor happy again, and I need to know what he's thinking and feeling."

"There may not be anything we can do," Emily warned her. "We dead people aren't famous for making the living happy."

"The worst thing that could happen is that you're right," Vicki said. "The best thing that could happen is that I'm right. I'll chance it."

"So will I, then," Emily decided. "Friday night?"

"Friday night."


	3. Chapter 3

**For the Love of Two** Chapter 3

"Oh, dear," Elder Gutknecht exclaimed. "You're both here at once. This is awkward." He'd expected Emily to take her turn at his telescope so she could watch Victor for a few minutes. He hadn't expected Victoria to show up as well.

"It's all right, Elder," Emily reassured him. "We've talked it over, and there isn't a problem. At least, not between the two of us." She gestured toward the telescope. "Victoria? I think he usually visits you first." Vicki nodded and put her eye to the eyepiece.

It took several minutes before Victor came into view. He was walking more slowly than ever, as though his feet were encased in lead shoes and every step was a struggle. He stopped at Victoria's grave and tenderly laid one of his bouquets at its base.

"Oh, Vicki, why did you have to go?" he sighed. "Without you, nothing's right. Everything's wrong now. We had it all, and now I have nothing. What am I going to do?"

Victoria pulled herself away from the telescope. "I can't bear to watch anymore," she sighed. Emily waited for a few seconds before taking her place at the scope. She heard Victor say, "It's just no good," before he walked into the forest, to the hole where she'd been imprisoned for so long. He knelt beside the hole and laid his other bouquet there, next to the row of bouquets that had withered and blackened with the passage of time.

"Emily," he sobbed. "Emily, Emily, Emily! So many wonderful things could have been... and never will be. What if I'd chosen you instead? Would I be feeling this lost and alone now? Is the Land of the Dead so much worse than this Land of the So-Called Living? This isn't living! I might as well be dead."

Suddenly, he looked thoughtful. Emily knew that look all too well. At least he looked a little less mournful; that was an improvement. But what was he thinking?

He stood up decisively. "Yes, perhaps that would be best," he said. "Emily, you let me go, and I don't even know where you are now." He faced back toward the graveyard. "Vicki, I don't know how it works when married people go to the Land of the Dead; I don't know if we're still considered to be married." He took a deep breath. "But, next Friday, I'm going to find out. Anything would be better than this." He walked away. His stride was almost lively, which was hideously ironic, considering the decision he'd just made.

Emily turned from the telescope, wide-eyed and frightened. "Emily, what's the matter? What's happened?" Victoria asked.

"He means to kill himself!" Emily gasped.

"What? No!" Vicki exclaimed. "We can't let him do that!"

"You cannot interfere," the Elder said suddenly. "Life is not our concern. The living must make their own decisions."

"She's right," Emily said firmly. "He's far too young to die. We can't let him do this to himself!"

The Elder shrugged. "What difference does it make if he's old or young? Many people get here in a very youthful state. Wars, sickness, accidents, crime... one way or another, we'll get them all. The Land of the Dead doesn't discriminate based on age." He slowly walked back to his study. Then he turned to glare eyelessly at them. "If either of you finds a way to influence that man's actions, you will never use my telescope again!" He turned away, then turned back and pointed a thin, bony finger at them. "And the first one who breaks that rule will quite likely find herself spending time in the South Side!"

Emily and Victoria looked at each other and shuddered. The South Side of the Land of the Dead was the place where really bad people went to be punished. There was something about the South Side that enabled the dead to feel pain, burning, cold, and other torments that they normally could not feel... and the ones who went there felt all those things, in full measure. Some people just had to spend a few hours a day there; Lord Barkis Bittern was one of the permanent residents. That in itself was enough to make them both dread the thought of that place.

"Now what are we going to do?" Emily asked bleakly. "If we somehow save his life, we'll never see him again, and one of us will suffer forever."

"And if we don't succeed..." Victoria began. Her voice trailed off.

"He'll be here with us," Emily finished. "Both of us."

"How can two women divide one man?" Vicki asked. "He's not like the man who's already divided in two."

"If we try to stop him and fail, one of us will end up in the South Side," Emily realized. "That means the one who tries the hardest to save him will be the one who doesn't get him."

"If we don't even try, he'll wind up here anyway, and we'll... have to figure something out," Vicki added. "One of us will get her heart broken all over again."

"Maybe both of us," Emily nearly whispered. "Maybe, once he's dead, he won't want to be married anymore. Maybe he'll want to be just friends, and we'll both suffer."

"Or maybe he'll want both of us, and won't be able to decide," Vicki thought out loud. "Maybe it will break _his_ heart to reject one of us. Maybe his suffering won't end at the grave."

"Maybe you're overthinking this," came a hollow voice from Emily's head. Maggot stuck his head out her left ear. "There isn't anything you can do, so why worry so much? What happens, happens. He'll be my breakfast either way."

"I can't accept that," Emily answered firmly. "I nearly married him, and that was a miracle."

"I did marry him, and that was another miracle," Vicki said. "So we know that miracles happen. We just need one more miracle, to try and save his life. Where do we get miracles around here?"

"The only source I know of is Elder Gutknecht," Emily sighed, "and I don't think he'll be handing out any miracles to either of us for a while."

"I suppose you're right," Vicki nodded. "Well, then how about someone who can give us some good advice?"

Emily thought for a moment. "I don't know if his advice is good, but there's someone I know who's clever and quick-thinking, and I know exactly where to find him tonight." She led Vicki down the winding stone streets to the Ball and Socket. It sounded like the jazz band inside was just finishing up an extended improv session. They stepped inside.

An assortment of musical skeletons was wailing out an up-tempo number, with the trom-bone player getting the final solo, accompanied by scat-singing from a one-eyed skeleton with a bowler hat. They finished to scattered applause; the one with the hat stepped up to the microbone. "Thanks, you're too kind," he told his listeners in a gravelly voice. "We're gonna take a quick breather now... except we don't breathe." He waited for the audience to laugh. Nothing happened. "Man! This place is _dead _tonight! Well, anyway, we'll be right back." He began to go backstage, then saw the two ladies and joined them instead.

"Well, well, well! If it isn't my favorite jubiliciously lovely corpse bride... and her cute friend!" He bowed and kissed Vicki's hand. She wasn't sure how he did that without lips, but she had bigger concerns and didn't fret over it. "What's a nice girl like you doin' in a place like this, and could I maybe take you to someplace nicer?" One of the nearby patrons slipped on some spilled beer on the floor, and slopped his Bloody Mary on the skeleton's leg. "If you do, the drinks are on me."

"Thanks, but I'm already taken, I think. Sort of. Maybe."

"Bonejangles, can we talk for a minute?" Emily asked him. "We need help."

"Do I hear the sound of damsels in distress? Ladies, I am all ears! Except I don't have any ears." He paused; Emily laughed politely. "I always liked you, Emily. What seems to be the problem?"

Emily introduced Victoria and described their dilemma. He lifted his hat straight up with one hand, scratched his bare white pate with the other, and dropped the hat back into place. "Lemme see if I'm gettin' this straight. You both love this living guy, and you're both willin' to fix it so you never see him again, as long as he stays alive?" They both nodded. He turned to Vicki. "And if he dies, and he chooses Emily, you'd let him go?"

"If that would make Victor happy, then yes," Vicki said firmly.

Bonejangles turned to face Emily. "And if he chooses your friend, _you'd_ let him go?"

"I did it once already," she said softly. "I just want him to be happy, and I'd be no worse off than I am now."

"Yow! Either you two ladies are in love, or you're whacked-out in the head! Maybe both."

"Love can be like that," Emily said.

"Yeah, I was there once," Bonejangles nodded. "It was love at first sight! Lucky for me, I took a second look. I stayed a free man, and I've been doin' all the things bachelors do ever since." He dropped his hat on a chair and sat on it; it made a whoopee-cushion noise. "Now, you wanted some advice, so listen good, 'cause here it comes." They bent over so they could hear him clearly over the background noise of the night club.

"First thing: do _not_ get yourselves sent to the South Side! That'll take all the joy out of death. It don't matter how happy this dude winds up; if you're goin' through the fire-and-brimstone treatment, you won't be able to enjoy the thought of him bein' happy. Are you with me so far?" They nodded.

"Second thing." He leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the table. "You'll attract a lot more maggots with honey than with embalmin' fluid. Capeesh?" They shook their heads. "You're gonna need the Elder's help to do anything at all, and you can't pull the wool over his eyes, even though he don't have any eyes." He paused; Vicki laughed politely. "Ohh, I like you! Anyway, if he thinks you're up to somethin', there ain't no way he's gonna help you. You gotta have a plan that don't break any of his rules, an' it has to be a real plan that you might follow, not just a nice-soundin' story.

"An' the third thing..." He stood, punched his hat back into shape, flipped it into the air so it landed on his head, and stared straight at Victoria. "If this plan don't get your man for you, then you, young lady, need to go out for a night on the town with me. Okay, I admit it, this little town don't have much night life..." He paused; both ladies laughed politely. "Real nice girls, both of you. So what do you say, Miss Vicki? Are you ready to trip the light fantastic with ol' Bonejangles?"

Victoria had led a very sheltered, protected life. A man who came on strongly to a woman was something she'd never encountered before. "Uhh... what would that involve?" she asked shyly.

"Oh, a little dancin', a little drinkin', a little walkin' around seein' the sights... maybe we could go up to Lookout Point an' watch the submarine races, ya know what I mean? Heh heh heh!"

Vicki tried to hide her discomfort. "Oh, dear, I don't know. Would we be chaperoned?"

Bonejangles shook his head so vigorously, it spun in a full circle. "No way! That would take all the fun out of it. Come on – you and me! What do you say?"

"It's too soon to make that decision," Emily said, realizing that Vicki was out of her league and needed rescuing. "First, we'll see what happens with Victor. If Victoria gets him, none of this other stuff will matter. Bonejangles, thank you for the advice. Now Vicki and I need to do some planning."


	4. Chapter 4

**For the Love of Two** Chapter 4

"Elder Gutknecht?" Emily called. He didn't answer. "Elder Gutknecht!" She assumed he was ignoring her because he suspected her of wanting to influence the Land of the Living, or one specific citizen there. She and Victoria crept around the tower, and eventually found the Elder, sound asleep with his head on a book. They called softly until he stirred.

"Eh? What kind of mischief are you two wanting to cause now?" he demanded grumpily.

"We're just here to use your telescope," Emily explained. "It's Friday night."

"Oh. I suppose that's all right," the Elder nodded.

"And we have one other small request," Victoria added.

"And what would that be?"

"Do you remember that Ukrainian haunting spell you used to send Victor and me to the Land of the Living?" Emily asked brightly. "Could you use it on the two of us?"

"So you can influence the life-or-death decisions of the living?" Gutknecht rumbled. "You know I won't allow that."

"Please, Elder," Emily went on. "We understand that he means to take his life tonight; he'll be with us in the Land of the Dead before the sun rises in the Land of the Living. We just want to see him one more time, as he is, before death begins its work on him. We want to remember him as he was."

"I see," the Elder nodded as he made his slow way onto the stool at his reading desk. "Will you promise, on your honor as well-bred ladies, that you will not try to contact him or influence him in any way?"

The two women looked at each other. "Do we really have to make that promise?" Victoria asked.

"Humph. I thought as much." Gutknecht began leafing through the pages of a thick book on his desk. "You're really fond of this young man, aren't you, Victoria?"

"Elder, I love him," Vicki replied.

"And you, Emily?" he asked. "The young man rejected you once and married this other girl. Why are you so obsessed with his well-being?"

"I love him, too," Emily answered.

"Ah. Young love," the Elder sighed. "It's quite unusual in the Land of the Dead, and I've never seen a case quite like this one. Is this young man's love worth risking a daily trip to the South Side?" Both women nodded hesitantly. "Well, I can't have you mucking about in the affairs of the living, but I can see that the two of you will stop at nothing to get what you want. So I'll make you this offer.

"I'm going to add a 'spectator' component to the spell. It will make you invisible and inaudible in the Land of the Living. You won't be seen, you won't be heard, and you can't touch anything in that land. All you can do is look and listen, which is what you said you want. This addition to the spell will work only if you willingly accept it. If you don't accept it, then I won't do the spell, and you can do nothing but watch him through the telescope until he joins us here. Will you accept these terms?"

Emily and Victoria hesitated, then slowly nodded. "If that's the best you can do for us, then we'll take it," Emily said for both of them.

"A sensible decision," Gutknecht nodded. He grabbed a nearby crow and squeezed out an egg. Then he took his quill pen and drew an eye on the egg. He stuck the egg in one of his empty eye sockets; the drawn eye blinked twice. "Now it's ready. When you're ready to return, just say 'Butterscotch'."

"Butterscotch," Victoria repeated. The Elder broke the egg open, and a strange colorful rippling effect floated down onto them. When the effect subsided, they were in the forest, about fifty feet away from Victoria's gravestone. The full moon threw their shadows onto the ground in front of them. There was no sign of Victor.

"That's odd," Emily observed. "If we can't be seen here, then why are you casting a shadow?"

"Well... about that," Victoria said embarrassedly. "I did something very, very bad. When the Elder cast his spell, I crossed my fingers behind my back. It's something I learned from Hildegarde. His 'spectator' clause isn't working on me."

Emily did something she hadn't done since her time with Victor. She laughed. "You did that, too?" she exclaimed. "We're _both_ going to wind up in the South Side if we keep going at this rate!"

"So Victor will be able to see us and hear us," Vicki observed. "We can even... touch him."

"Except the first one who shows herself to him will get the maximum punishment from the Elder," Emily reminded her.

"If we both move at the same time, what will happen?" Vicki asked hopefully.

"We'll both get the punishment," Emily said after a moment. "Elder Gutknecht isn't one to be stopped by technicalities. Just the fact that we crossed our fingers is going to get us in trouble." She shook her head. She began to say more, but Vicki suddenly shushed her. Someone was approaching.

He was still slouching as he walked, but there was a tiny bit of spring in his step that they hadn't seen recently. He stopped at Victoria's grave first and laid his sole bouquet of flowers there. "Oh, Vicki... are you going to approve of what I'm about to do? You were always so traditional in your thinking. I know you're somewhere on the other side, but will you even want me anymore when we're both dead? Especially when I did it to myself?" He stood silently for a few seconds. "It's hard to believe that the breaths I'm taking now will be my last ones. What's it like to be dead? Everyone finds out sooner or later. For me, it's going to be sooner."

He took a deep breath and strode into the woods. He passed within twenty feet of Emily and Victoria; they stayed stock-still (which is much easier for the dead than for the living) and he didn't see or hear them. After he passed them, they quietly followed him so they could see and hear him when he got to the place where Emily had been buried for so long.

"Emily," he began, and paused. "You aren't here, and you probably aren't in the Land of the Dead anymore, either. I don't know where the wonderful souls go after they turn into butterflies and fly away. I'm sure I won't go there; I was never as wonderful a person as you were. Maybe they'll let me play that piano in the Ball and Socket now and then, when I get there. Maybe I can even teach them some culture." He chuckled mirthlessly.

"I didn't bring you flowers this time. All I brought to offer you is me. I was willing to give my life for you before, but this time, I'm really going to do it, because you aren't here to stop me." He sat down on the edge of the hole, with his feet dangling in it; his back was to Emily and Victoria. "Goodbye, cruel world. Hello... something else." Before they realized what was happening, he had pulled a small bottle out of his pocket, pulled out the stopper, and drunk its contents.

"Huh. Not as bad as I'd feared," he said to no one. "The, uhh, the individual who sold it to me said it will work quickly and be almost painless. I'm sure it's not as good as that Wine of Ages that the Elder had for me, but it will have to do. I suppose I just wait now."

Victoria moved to run to him; Emily held her back. "We're too late!" she whispered. "We can't help him now. All we can do is get ourselves sent to the South Side."

"How can I just sit here while he's dying?" Vicki begged. "We said we came here to see him! Now let me see him!"

"The price will be too high," Emily argued.

"Let me make that decision for myself," Vicki shot back.

Suddenly, Victor cried out and doubled over. "Ohh... this is _not_ painless! That criminal lied to me! Like a knife..." He fell over on his side. His voice dropped to a panicked whisper.

"Everything's getting blurry..."

"All I can hear is a roaring in my ears..."

"I can't feel my hands! I can't feel my feet! Oh, no, I'm really dying. Emily, where are you when I need you?"

Emily forgot all about the South Side. She rushed to where Victor lay, sat down beside him, and cradled his head in her lap, stroking his hair with her good hand. "I'm here, Victor! I'm here for you." Victoria was right behind her; she sat beside him on his other side. "I'm here, Victor! It's me, Vicki! I'm right here." He gave no sign that he'd heard either of them or knew that they were there. He trembled violently; his eyes were wide but sightless; his voice fell to such a quiet whisper, Emily had to bend over to hear him.

"...so cold..."

"...I'm scared. I really need you, Emily! I'm so scared..."

"...everything's gone black..."

"...can't breathe..."

"...so very, very c-cold..."

His thin body shook once more, and then he lay still.

There was no sound in the forest except for the wind, a few distant crows, and the sobbing of two young dead women who still had some tears to shed.


	5. Chapter 5

**For the Love of Two** Chapter 5

"_Now_ what do we do?"

The two young women sat together in the forest in the dark. Between them lay the pale, still body of the man they both loved. They'd earned a severe punishment by trying to save his life, and they'd failed to save him.

"I guess we say the magic word and face our punishment from the Elder," Emily sighed. "Then we'll have to sort out who gets Victor, if he actually wants either of us anymore."

"There's no need for that last part," Victoria said softly. "He's settled that for us."

"I don't understand," Emily said, confused.

"When he realized he was dying, he called your name, not mine," Vicki said sadly. "The happiest moments of his life were the ones he spent by my side. But in his darkest hour, he wanted _you_ beside him."

"Shouldn't we ask _him_ whom he'd rather marry?" Emily wondered.

"If we put him in that position, he'd never make up his mind, because he wouldn't want to hurt either of us," Vicki answered. "I don't think it's fair to do that to him. I know him well. He's made his choice. Emily, I always knew you'd gotten a piece of his heart. I guess you wound up with the bigger piece." She slipped off her wedding ring. "You had Victor in your hands once, but you let him go because he loved me more. Now I can do the same for you." She laid the ring in Emily's lap, blinked hard, and looked away. "I think you'll be needing that soon."

"It may not matter, if I get sent to the South Side and you don't," Emily said. "But... if I do get Victor, then what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll look for a place where I won't bump into the two of you very often, if there is such a place. It will be fun to mingle with the common people that Mother and Father kept me away from when I was alive. Except I don't know where they are. Where does someone go, what do they do, when they realize they've got no one? No one at all?"

"Vicki," Emily said, with an odd tone in her voice that made Victoria turn and look at her. "That isn't quite true."

"What do you mean?" Vicki asked. It was her turn to be confused.

"I figured it out when I came to your home to reclaim Victor, back when you were alive," Emily began. "I put on an act and said nothing, because I was focused on Victor and because things were too complicated already. Since you came to the Land of the Dead, I've been waiting for you to figure it out for yourself, but I guess you need a little help.

"For one thing, don't you think it's odd that we seem to think alike so often? We both sought out Elder Gutknecht and used his telescope to watch Victor on Friday nights, we both crossed our fingers when he cast his haunting spell, and neither of us is very jealous over the other because of Victor. Don't you think that's strange?"

"When you put it that way, I suppose it is a bit unusual," Vicki nodded, "but does that mean anything?"

"For another thing, how did your family become so poor?" Emily went on.

"Mother and Father never talked about it much," Victoria said hesitantly. "Even when they involved me in money discussions, like when they told me about my dowry, they didn't explain why it was so small. That made me think there might have been some kind of a scandal involved. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Third question," Emily persisted. "You said you had no brothers or sisters when you were growing up. You _didn't_ say you were an only child. What's the story there?"

"Well... that's mostly guesswork," Vicki said. "I have some vague early-childhood memories of a pretty sister who was a lot older than I was, but then those memories just stopped. Mother and Father never said anything, and there isn't a portrait of her in the halls of my... wait a moment!" Her mouth fell open. "Are you saying my family became poor because someone took the family jewels and a satchel of gold...?"

"...and then ran off with a wandering nobleman, and she was never seen again," Emily nodded sadly. "The family was so humiliated and so scandalized that they never spoke of her from that day forward. _Did_ they?"

Victoria laid her trembling hands on Emily's shoulders. "You're... my sister?"

"Do you think I would have given up my husband, on my own wedding day, to a total stranger?" Emily half-smiled.

Then Victoria's grip on Emily's shoulders tightened. "You mean it was _your_ fault that I grew up pretending I was well-off when I couldn't even afford a new pair of shoes every year?"

"I... I'm sorry," Emily stammered, taken aback. "Barkis convinced me that I deserved a really nice dowry. I wasn't thinking clearly. I figured that Father must have had some more money hidden away somewhere. You were so young at the time… I never thought how it might affect you."

Vicki's hands fell to her sides. Her mind was whirling; Emily could see that plainly. "Victoria, please tell me what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking? All of a sudden, I have a sister. I always wanted a sister. But my sister made my life miserable for years, and I never knew it until now. I know you didn't do it deliberately, but by being irresponsible and thoughtless. I never thought of you as irresponsible or thoughtless before. You certainly aren't irresponsible or thoughtless now, but you were then. On the other hand, if you hadn't taken all the money, Father would have married me to some titled nobleman and I never would have met Victor. But you weren't thinking about that when you took all the money. Emily, the more I think about this, the more complicated it gets! I don't know whether I ought to love you or hate you!"

"I guess that means you're really my sister," Emily observed with a wry grin. Victoria thought about that for a moment, then flung her arms around Emily. Both of them were close to tears. They embraced each other for what seemed like hours.

"This explains so much," Victoria whispered. "It even explains why Lord Barkis invited himself to my wedding rehearsal. He already knew the family, and he figured they would have a dowry for me like the one you made for yourself." She paused. "But why didn't Mother and Father recognize him?"

"When he was courting me, he called himself Sir Reginald, Duke of Chutney," Emily answered. "He's aged a bit since the last time I saw him, and he wore his hair quite differently, too. I suppose Mother and Father were more concerned with titles and bank accounts than they were with memorizing people's faces."

"That's Mother and Father, all right," Vicki nodded. "They can barely keep track of who their own relatives are. They probably didn't _want_ to remember him."

"So, please, don't disappear," Emily urged her. "I know it will be very hard for you; maybe you'll have to let some time go by. But I don't want to lose my sister. Again." They embraced again. When they released each other, Victoria glanced down and gasped. Victor's body was gone.

"He's probably in the Ball and Socket, enduring his new-arrival party, even though that sort of thing isn't his style at all," Emily suggested.

"And he's wondering where we are," Vicki added.

"You're right," Emily nodded. "Let's not keep him waiting. Shall we go face the Elder and get it over with?" Vicki nodded. They joined hands and Emily said, "Butterscotch." Everything went wavy... and then they were back in the Elder's study.

He looked down on them from his tall desk and sighed. "What am I going to _do_ with the two of you? You broke your agreement with me, and you tried to interfere in the affairs of the living. Don't attempt to deny it – I watched the whole thing through my telescope."

Emily braced herself and stepped forward. "Then you know I'm the one who tried to intervene first. Give me my punishment, and let her go."

Victoria rushed to her side. "But I _wanted_ to intervene first! The only reason I didn't is because she held me back. I deserve the punishment."

"Vicki, no! If I'm out of the way, you can get your husband back!"

"But he chose you, Emily, not me! He's going to be _your_ husband!"

"Ladies, please," Gutknecht said patiently. "Technically, there's enough guilt for both of you, with plenty to spare. But, as I recall, I said you'd be punished if you _influenced_ the young man's actions in any way. He never actually saw you or heard you; the poison acted too quickly on him. So you didn't influence him at all, even though you very much wanted to. That's the _only_ reason why neither of you is going to the South Side.

"As for my telescope, that no longer matters, because the only living soul you wanted to see is no longer living. I suppose I must congratulate you on what sounds like a friendly solution to a very thorny problem, and on figuring out your relationship to each other. Now, please, go cause a calamity somewhere else! If I had any innards, I'd surely have indigestion on account of you two."

"Yes, Elder Gutknecht!"

"Thank you, Elder Gutknecht!"

As they scampered down the stone steps that connected his study to ground level, he shook his head and sighed again. "Young love," he said out loud to no one. "It never changes, even when they're dead."


	6. Chapter 6

**For the Love of Two** Chapter 6

The bell on the wall rang in the Ball and Socket, just like it did so often. "New arrival! New arrival!" Corpses and skeletons rushed to their positions to welcome another soul who had just left the Land of the Living forever. Two skeletons ran headlong into each other and sent bones flying everywhere. Paul, the headwaiter, arranged for a mug of a strong brew to be poured in advance. Who would it be this time? Someone great and important, who needed to be reminded that death made everyone equal? Or would it be a mere nobody, who was about to discover that he was neither better nor worse than anyone else here? Some people reacted with shock and horror to finding themselves in the Land of the Dead; others almost embraced the change. Who would it be? A wavy profile was appearing on the floor, growing more solid and substantial by the moment...

They all stared at him in silence; the party atmosphere vanished. Finally, Mrs. Plum burst out, "You again?"

"Well... I'm sorry to disappoint you, but yes, it's me again," Victor stammered as he rose. "I seem to be here permanently this time, though. No more traipsing back and forth between two worlds for me." He sighed deeply. "For better or for worse, here I am." Everyone was staring at him in silent astonishment. This wasn't the kind of welcome he was expecting.

He glanced at his hands, saw that they had turned the pale-blue color common to the dead here, and waited for someone to say something encouraging. After a moment, he heard an excited barking. A skeletal dog with a red collar came racing up to him, his tail wagging a mile a minute. "Scraps! Well, _somebody's_ glad to see me again." He bent down and rubbed behind where the dog's ears would have been; Scraps wriggled in delight.

"Jolly well right!" exclaimed an inebriated skeleton with a top hat. "We're all glad, aren't we? He's here, and he's stayin', unlike last time, and that calls for a celebration! Let's all drink a toast to... uhh, what was your name again, guv'nor?"

"Victor," he answered.

"Yes! A toast to Victor!" They all clinked their mugs together and drank deeply. The party atmosphere began to return. Someone pressed a mug into Victor's hand; he sipped at it hesitantly and made a face.

Paul was at his elbow in an instant. "Is ze brew not to your liking, monsieur?"

"Well, it's not exactly what I'm used to," Victor said. "I don't suppose you have any wine?"

The headwaiter's face lit up in a smile, for the first time in what might have been years. "At last! A new arrival with ze cultured palate!" He gestured with his head at the cockroaches who obeyed him (most of the time). "Fetch a wine goblet – no, not ze vessel with ze pestle! Use ze chalice with ze palace! And open ze bottle of 1743 Mort Lô. Zat is right, pour out ze good stuff. Not so quickly – show respect for ze wine!" The roaches scurried across the bar and fetched a crystal goblet, which they filled with a red wine of some kind and brought to Victor. He sniffed it, took a sip, and nodded.

"That's quite good," he said with satisfaction, and drank the rest with reasonably cultured swallows as Paul looked on with delight. Then he gazed all around the club, clearly looking for someone, and not finding the one he was searching for. He did notice Mayhew, his family's long-suffering former employee, leaning against the bar, and eventually ambled over to greet him.

" 'ello again, Master Victor," the older man said in his wheezy voice. "I reckon you're gonna stay with us for a while this time?"

"It looks that way, Mayhew," Victor replied. "I seem to have burned my bridges."

"Good thing, too," Mayhew nodded. "The more I look back at life, the more it seems a nasty, busy waste of time. Everybody wastes their lives scramblin' to get more than they've got, never 'appy with what they _'ave_ got, an' they don't see a problem until it's too late for them to get it right." He coughed twice. "Sorry about that, sir; coughing's become a bit of a bad 'abit with me, even though I don't breathe anymore. Anyway, half o' the folks in this room spent ages figurin' out what went wrong in their lives – why they weren't happy, why they didn't become rich an' famous an' powerful, why they got nothin' useful done. The other half, they're the 'appy ones who just kept their eyes on the things they had, an' not on the things they didn't have.

"Now, you, Master Victor... you seem to be a man who's lookin' for something he don't have. What might that be, if I might ask?"

"Actually, Mayhew, you're right, but I'm not looking for a 'what.' I'm looking for a 'who'."

"Ahh, I get it!" Mayhew nodded. "You're lookin' for one o' your fair lady friends, aren't you? I've got to 'and it to you – for a soft-spoken fellow who don't chase the skirts, you sure got a bevy of 'em wantin' your company."

Victor scoffed. "I'm not sure one girl counts as a 'bevy,' does she, really?"

Mayhew looked at him, puzzled. "One? There's at least two, by my count."

That brought Victor up short for a moment. "Oh, you mean Emily? Well, she's not here anymore, right? We watched her fly away to a better place. I was looking for Victoria."

"Oh, Victoria's around here somewhere," Mayhew said distractedly as he noticed his drink was running low. "And Emily, she's around here somewhere too. There's no knowin' where, though. They both kind of keep to themselves, you know?"

"Emily is _here?!_" Victor nearly shouted. Then he stopped. "_And_ Vicki? Oh, dear, this might get complicated. I didn't foresee this at all."

"Well, it's bound to be simpler than it was the first time," Mayhew shrugged. The roaches refilled his mug and he took a deep drink. "There's somethin' about bein' dead that helps a body know what really matters. You're still only allowed one girl at a time, just like bein' alive, but when you see that one girl, you'll know."

Suddenly, a firm hand gripped his arm and spun him around. It was Mrs. Plum. "Oh, listen to this! A man who never got married is giving out marriage advice! Now, young Victor, you sit down here –" she pulled out a chair and half-led, half-pushed him into it "– and let me tell you how it _really_ is.

"People don't get married much down here, compared to upstairs. Most of the common reasons don't apply anymore – girls don't need a man to protect 'em or provide for 'em, nobody marries for money or status because those things don't exist down here, nobody extends their family line, and those, ehh, _personal_ reasons that drive some men to the altar don't work down here, either." She winked and nudged him with her elbow; he somehow blushed, even though his heart was no longer beating. "All that's left is when two people would rather be with each other than be with anybody else.

"We all know the price you almost paid to be with Emily, and from the snippets I overheard from Victoria, it sounds like the two of you had that kind of marriage upstairs. Either of them would make a fine eternal companion for you, if you ask me. All _you_ have to do, you lucky young gentleman, is make up your mind. Just be sure to be nice and gentle about it with the one you _don't_ choose."

"Yes, well, that's my real problem," Victor stammered. "I never wanted to hurt either of them, and the whole situation wasn't something I tried to create, and I seem to be good at saying just the wrong thing when I need to say the right thing."

"Well, it won't matter for a little while yet," the matronly cook replied with a smile. "I mean, you just died less than an hour ago! This isn't the time to be planning a marriage, is it? Take a little time and get used to the way things are. You've got the rest of eternity to sort out your personal life, so you can think it through and do it right when the time comes."

"Huh. I suppose you're right." He turned to the headwaiter. "Could I have a bit more wine, please?"

**o**

Emily and Victoria paused at the entrance to the Ball and Socket. "How are we going to do this?" Emily asked. "The moment he sees one of us, he's going to run up and hug that one like there's no tomorrow. But if we both go in at once, he won't know who to hug first. He'll be overwhelmed."

"He'll probably faint," Vicki nodded. "One at a time, then. But who shall go first?"

Emily looked thoughtful. "If he truly means to choose me, then you should go first. That way, we'll know if we're reading his intentions correctly. If we're wrong, and he really wants you more, then I'll just slip away and go back to the way things used to be. If we're right, then you're entitled to some time with him."

"I just can't believe you have no jealousy," Vicki said.

"_I_ can't believe you're willingly giving up your own husband," Emily replied.

"Perhaps, in giving up our husbands, we are perfectly matched," Vicki said with something that was almost a smile. "Especially since it is the same husband both times." She gingerly walked up the stony steps to the doorway, swung the door open, and descended the wooden stairs to the nightclub floor. Well, not quite. Victor rushed up to her and embraced her before she got off the first step.


	7. Chapter 7

**For the Love of Two** Chapter 7

Victoria wasn't sure how Victor would react to seeing her again in the Land of the Dead. Would he be glad, or confused, or frightened? His rapturous, silent greeting answered that question in a matter of moments.

For about two seconds, she seriously thought about taking him away and breaking her agreement with Emily. It would mean losing her sister, but she'd gain her husband back, so that was a good trade, to her way of thinking. But there were some subtle differences that reminded her that this wasn't her Victor anymore. She couldn't smell the subtle dash of cologne he usually wore (at her urging), his skin was blue, and he was no longer warm to her touch. The former was probably because her own sense of smell no longer worked, and the other two were definitely because both their bodies were now at room temperature. They were small differences, to be sure, but they made her realize that Victor was dead now, just like her. Their marriage vows were completely fulfilled, and now death had parted them. While it might be possible to create a new marriage in the Land of the Dead, he'd inadvertently made it clear that his deepest passion lay elsewhere. Like Emily before her, Vicki was unwilling to claim a man who loved someone else more.

Now, how was she supposed to communicate that to _him?_

He wasn't communicating at all; he was just clinging to her. At last, he whispered, "I thought I'd never see you again."

"I wish we didn't have to meet again like this," she sighed into his shoulder.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well… we're both dead," she replied. "It does cast a damper on our relationship."

"I suppose it does, a bit," he nodded. "But I was ready to marry Emily in the Land of the Dead. Can't you and I do the same?"

"Umm… about that," she began hesitantly. "When you ended your life, were you aware of what was going on around you?"

"How did you know I ended my own life?" he blurted out. "I didn't tell anyone that!"

She stroked his cheek with a bony finger. "I was there," she said softly.

"You were there?" he repeated in disbelief.

"I was there for the whole thing," she nodded. "I heard everything you said. But I got the impression you couldn't see or hear much, once the poison began working on you. That's why I asked – were you aware of what was going on around you?"

He took a deep breath. "Did I say anything unmanly or cowardly?"

"No, dearest Victor. You died well, if that's any comfort to you."

He relaxed slightly. "Once that stuff began working on me, everything went black. All I could hear was a roaring in my ears. The sound of my own voice was hard to hear. I think I talked out loud, just so I could try to hear something other than that awful roaring." He closed his eyes and shook his head at the memory. "It was terrible! I couldn't see, I couldn't hear, I couldn't move… I'd never felt so completely alone!"

"You weren't alone," Victoria reassured him. "Elder Gutknecht has a telescope that can view the Land of the Living. We'd been watching you. We knew what you planned to do to yourself, and we arranged to be there for you."

"We?" Victor wondered.

"Emily and I," Vicki admitted.

"You were both there?"

"One on either side of you," Victoria said. "You were never alone."

"I wish I'd known that," he sighed.

"Perhaps it was for the best," she answered. "If you'd known we were there, you might not have been so honest and open about what you were feeling."

"I don't understand," he stammered.

"When your darkest moments were upon you, you called out for comfort. We tried to give you that comfort, even though you couldn't feel it. But the one you called out to… was Emily."

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry," he blurted out. "I don't know what I was thinking. Please don't hold that against me, I beg you."

"It's all right, Victor," she said soothingly, stroking his cheek again. "You weren't being unfaithful. I was already dead, and no, I won't hold it against you. I always knew she'd gotten a piece of your heart, just like you got a piece of hers. I got the rest of you, so I was content with that. You made my wish come true; I got to spend the rest of my life with someone I was deeply in love with. You were a wonderful husband to me, and you never gave me any reason to be jealous. Even as the two of us sat beside you, watching your last moments, there was no jealousy between us.

"But now we're all dead, and your vows to me are completed. You don't owe me anything. It's time for you to start figuring out how you'll spend the rest of time. And who you're going to spend it with."

"Shouldn't that be the one I loved the best in life?" he asked earnestly.

"That should be the one you love the best now," she answered, and began to pull away from him. "Victor, I watched from the shadows as Emily almost married you, but she gave you up because she knew you loved me more. That was the most selfless, generous act I've ever seen. I didn't think I could ever love someone so much that I'd willingly give him up like that. But now, it's my turn to do the same thing.

"Poor Emily was murdered by the first man she loved, and then she spent years buried in an unmarked grave. You were the second man she loved; she lost you once when she found out your vows weren't binding in death, and then she lost you again when she gave you to me. She couldn't even enjoy her flight to the moon as a flock of butterflies – the butterflies couldn't fly that far. She's known nothing but one disappointment after another. It's her turn to get a happy ending. As for you, I know you spent our married life trying to keep her out of your thoughts. You did well, all things considered. But you don't have to fight that attraction anymore. I only hope I can be half as generous and unselfish as she's been.

"But, Victoria," he tried to protest. She shook her head firmly. He wasn't used to her contradicting him – she had her ways of getting him to change his mind when they disagreed, but this direct approach was something new. He stopped.

"Victor, I love you. I love the way I feel when I'm around you. But real love isn't about feelings. It's about doing what's best for the one you love, no matter what price you have to pay. I know I'll see you again someday; this isn't goodbye forever. But, because I love you, I have to let you go. There are no vows to tie us together anymore, Emily loves you more, and you love her more. Please don't try to deny it; I heard you say things that you don't even remember saying."

He tried to speak, but she laid a finger against his lips. Her voice was barely a whisper. "You never gave me anything but good in my life. I tried to be good to you as well. Would you have me be selfish now, and try to keep you when you aren't mine anymore? I love you. I love you so much that I'm letting you go. Please… just try to make her as happy as you made me." She kissed him quickly on the lips, turned, and fled out the door before she started to cry.


	8. Chapter 8

**For the Love of Two** Chapter 8

Victor was stunned. He'd barely had the chance to greet his late, lamented wife when she'd said goodbye and left. He burst the doors open, rushed into the street, and looked all around. But there was no sign of her. There was only… Emily. She was leaning against the wall, smiling, watching him.

It was no exaggeration to say he went weak in the knees. He'd thought he had said 'goodbye' to Emily forever; he'd watched her turn into a flock of butterflies and fly away toward the moon that she loved so well. But there she was, still drop-dead gorgeous, with that loving expression that she saved for him alone. It wouldn't be true to say he immediately forgot about Victoria, but his thoughts certainly became wildly mixed. He was gawking at her, and he knew it, and he didn't care.

"Hello, new arrival," she said softly. He slowly walked over toward her, trying not to wobble.

"Emily," he sighed as he stopped two feet away from her. He'd always known that she loved him. Sometimes thoughts of her had crept into his mind, and he'd fought off those thoughts, for the sake of being faithful to his wife. Now he finally admitted to himself that he loved her too. After a moment's hesitation, they rushed together and embraced each other as tightly as they could, and then a little bit tighter than that. The feeling of her bony arm against him was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. The feeling of the rest of her against him made him quiver. She wasn't warm to the touch, but neither was he, and she was... she was Emily.

"Does this mean you're happy to see me?" she whispered.

"You have no idea," he whispered back. He lost track of time; he couldn't guess how long they stood there on that dark, empty street, just holding each other. At last, they let each other go, but they didn't pull away by much. They just gazed at each other for a few seconds.

"So what do we do now?" she asked. "Try to pick up where we left off?"

"It might be better if we started from the beginning," he said hesitantly.

"All right. From the beginning." She laid her hands on his shoulders. "You may kiss the bride," she whispered mischievously.

"But... you're not my bride this time," he stammered. "At least, not yet."

"No, I guess I'm not," she said, reluctantly casting her eyes on the ground. Then her head snapped up again. "What do you mean, 'not yet'?"

"You aren't my bride now, but... I think I want to change that situation," he said. "And I want to do it for keeps this time."

He was stunned to see her eyes glistening. "Emily, what's wrong? What did I say that was wrong? I don't ever want to make you cry again!"

"It's all right, Victor," she sighed. "These are happy tears." She gazed back at him as she sang,

"If it is my turn to handle you, and you'll remain,  
"There's a love my lifeless heart cannot contain.  
"Yes, I know your heart's done beating,  
"And I know that I am dead.  
"Yet the joy here that I feel,  
"It's a thing no one can steal,  
"For it seems I still have a chance to wed."

"Then why do you seem unhappy?" he asked softly.

"Oh, Victor!" she exclaimed, and laid her head on his shoulder. "There are so many things that can go wrong! We've already seen things go wrong that we never could have imagined. What's going to keep us apart this time?"

"It won't be me," came a hollow voice from inside her head. She pulled Maggot out of her left ear with some irritation.

"I don't suppose you could leave the two of us alone for a few minutes?" she demanded.

"Oh, but why?" he whined from her shoulder. "Now that Victor is dead, you're a matched pair. I can nibble on both of you, and see who tastes better!" Victor shuddered.

"Oh, that," she fussed. "Victor, this is a terrible thing to bring up at a time like this, but you realize… we aren't going to stay well-preserved for long. Maggot and his friends will have a go at the both of us. I won't be a pretty girl for much longer. Within a few years, we'll probably be nothing but a pair of skeletons in a suit and a wedding dress."

Victor clutched his throat for a moment. "Is that going to hurt?"

"Don't be insulting!" Maggot exclaimed. "My associates and I have been doing this for thousands of years. We're professionals. Trust me, you'll hardly even notice."

"Okay, I guess, if it's unavoidable," Victor nodded dubiously. "But, Emily, even if you're a skeleton, it will still be you, right? You'll still have your personality? You'll still dance? You'll still be able to play the piano with me?"

"Yes, my sweet Victor," she smiled, relieved beyond words to hear him admit what his priorities were. "I'll always be me, and you'll always be you, for as long as time endures."

"In that case, I have only one more question," he nodded firmly. "It's a question that, somehow, I never asked you before." He went down on one knee, right there in the cobblestone street. "Emily, my love, will you marry me?"

"Victor," she nearly sobbed. "You just died! We haven't seen each other in a year and a half! You just said goodbye to your wife! Is this the best time for a proposal?"

"Emily, I let you walk away from me once," he answered solemnly, "I will _never_ make that mistake again. In fact, if you say 'yes,' my next words will be to say that we need to walk right down to Elder Gutknecht's tower and make this permanent between us. After all, you're already dressed for the occasion."

Emily's life had been hard, and her unlife had been harder. She'd had her hopes raised, and then dashed to bits, more times than most people who were three times her age. The idea that something might go right, and stay right, just refused to register in her mind. "Are you really offering me a second chance at marriage? At love? At you?"

"I think it's your third chance, actually," he nodded. "Please say you're willing."

"Yes," she sniffed, then exclaimed, "I am! I do! I will! Yes!" She threw her arms around him and held him tight; Maggot had to jump back to avoid being squished between them.

"Hey! Watch it, you two!" he protested. "At least, get a room!" They ignored him.

**o**

Elder Gutknecht was pondering his empty wine goblet when the happy couple walked in. "Well, well, why all the smiles, Emily?" he wondered. "Have you come up with a brand-new way to break the rules?"

"No, sir," Victor answered. "We want to get married."

"Again?" the Elder wondered. "Well, they say the third time's the charm. Do you think you can make it last more than a few hours this time?"

"Yes, Elder," Emily replied confidently. "There aren't any obstacles between us anymore."

"That might not be completely true," Gutknecht said with a slow shake of his ancient head. "For one thing, there are no churches in this Land. I can't offer you a church wedding."

"No churches?" Victor hadn't thought of that.

"I'm afraid not," his fiancée nodded. "Church is for the living."

"Huh." Victor pondered that for a moment. "Well, it doesn't _have_ to be a church wedding, does it? I mean, a justice of the peace can marry people in his office, and a ship's captain can marry people at sea. I know you'd rather have a storybook wedding with all the trimmings, but could you... pardon the expression... could you live with something less fancy?"

"If I've got my storybook husband, I can get by without a storybook wedding," Emily smiled. "But, if not in a church, then where shall we have the ceremony?"

"Hmm." Victor thought about that. "How about Lookout Point, with the view that you love so well?"

"Oh, Victor, that's perfect!" she exclaimed.

"That's also quite a distance away," the Elder interrupted. "It will take my old legs two hours or more to walk that far."

"We can use that time," Victor decided. "Emily, do you think Mrs. Plum can whip up a wedding cake of some kind in two hours?"

"We can find out," Emily replied eagerly. "And we have to visit the Ball and Socket anyway. That's where everyone will be gathered at this time of the evening. We'll need to find some witnesses. And some wedding guests!" It was agreed. The Elder began making his way toward Lookout Point, while Victor and Emily scampered back to the Ball and Socket.

It took them a while. Emily kept breaking out in graceful dance moves as she walked, humming a little melody to herself. Victor just watched her and half-smiled. He lacked her talent for dancing; there was no chance of him joining into the dance with her. But her joy was obvious, and contagious. The somber sadness that had been his constant companion ever since Vicki died was slowly beginning to thaw.

When they got to the Ball and Socket, the reaction to the news was mixed. Some were overjoyed for Emily; others' reactions boiled down to, "Oh, no, not again." Most of them agreed to be guests at the wedding, either out of joy for the happy couple or out of curiosity to see if they'd really go through with it this time. Mrs. Plum needed no persuading to make another wedding cake; she lived for this stuff (figuratively speaking). She and her assistants set to work, adding bizarre ingredients that would register on dead people's nearly-nonexistent senses of taste. The jazz band volunteered to play the wedding march in Dixieland style, but Emily decided that was a little too far off the traditional path for her. A small crowd of skeletons and walking corpses made their way across town to Lookout Point.

Elder Gutknecht was waiting for them there, with a candle, a golden goblet, and a ceramic bottle marked with a skull and crossbones. "The Wine of Ages?" Victor wondered.

"It can't hurt you anymore," the Elder explained, "it's all I had handy, and it's good wine. It's just the thing for a shared drink in a wedding ceremony."

Victor stood aside with Bonesapart and General von Kavitty, who had appointed themselves to be his groomsmen, with the specific job of keeping him from running away. Somewhere in the crowd, his Emily was undergoing final preparations for her wedding... again. He suspected that Mrs. Black Widow might be doing some nips and tucks on the wedding gown, which was showing signs of wear and tear here and there. Emily had no formal bouquet – she'd thrown that to Victoria at her second wedding – so some of the deceased ladies had left on a scavenger hunt for some wild flowers suitable for a bride to carry down the aisle. Technically, there was no aisle, just a gap down the middle of the group who stood (there were no chairs, either) and waited for the ceremony to begin. All in all, it wasn't remotely close to a formal wedding.

As long as the end result was him being married to Emily, Victor didn't care.


	9. Chapter 9

**For the Love of Two** Chapter 9

The bride was ready. The groom was getting nervous. It was time.

There was no organist and no organ at Lookout Point, so all the guests "ooh'ed" the wedding march, adding harmonies as they thought best. It actually produced a charming, subdued effect, suggesting a guarded optimism instead of the brassy confidence that accompanied the march when played on a church organ. This was the second time Victor had watched Emily march toward him in her wedding gown, but he still was overtaken by the classic deer-in-the-headlights look common to most bridegrooms. She was so beautiful! Emily strode confidently down the "aisle," smiling on the outside, full of fears and worries on the inside. What might go wrong this time? Could she really have a happy wedding day after all?

She stopped beside him and took his hand, and they both turned to face the Elder. "Dearly departed," he began, "we are gathered here today to join this couple in matrimony. If anyone knows any reason why these two should not be married, let him speak now, or forever hold his pieces."

"_I_ know a good reason!" came a familiar voice from below them.

"_**You?!**_" Emily exclaimed in horror. The crowd slowly parted to allow Lord Barkis Bittern to climb the stairs and approach the wedding party. His time in the South Side had not been kind to him. His clothes and his face were scorched almost black, and several sparks glowed in what was left of his hair. But there was still no mistaking his arrogant sneer, or his walk that suggested that he owned the world.

"Emily, Emily, Emily, how quickly you forget," he scolded her as though she were a child. "Don't you remember the promise you made to me? You promised you'd love me forever, didn't you?" When she didn't respond, he repeated, "_Didn't_ you?"

Reluctantly, she nodded.

"Well, then," he smirked, "if you made a vow to love me forever, then why are you marrying this commoner? He's got no place in your life – you belong to me!" He waved his fingers dismissively at Victor. "Be off with you, boy. You've done enough harm already. I'll take my rightful place by Emily's side, and we'll finish up this charming little ceremony."

"Why are you doing this?" Emily begged him.

"When you wake up in the morning and see me next to you, the look of horror on your face will be my reward," he sneered. "I have suffered much on account of you, and it's only fair if you share in my sufferings until the end of time, isn't it?"

Everyone stared at Elder Gutknecht, waiting for him to come up with a satisfactory reply. All he said was, "A promise is a promise, I suppose..."

Emily was close to panic. "Elder! Victor! _Do_ something!"

"There's nothing they can do, my dead little darling," Bittern gloated. "Your own words have sealed your fate." He ignored the scowls and glares of everyone else present. But he couldn't ignore an odd feeling in his foot. He glanced down, to see a small skeletal dog lifting its leg on his left shoe. Scraps didn't have a bladder anymore, but somehow, a puddle appeared on the lord's shoe anyway. He kicked at the dog and missed.

"No, no, wait a moment," Victor thought out loud. "Elder Gutknecht, what would be the best thing that could ever happen to Lord Barkis?"

Gutknecht thought for a bit. "I suppose the best thing would be if he returned to the South Side, accepted his punishment, and perhaps learned something from it someday."

"Well put," Victor nodded. "Emily, would you like to see Lord Barkis return to the South Side and accept his punishment?"

"Very few things would make me happier," she scowled.

"Excellent," Victor nodded with satisfaction. "Just before Vicki left me, she told me something that stuck in my mind. She said, 'Real love isn't about feelings. It's about doing what's best for the one you love.' And, since Emily wants what is best for Lord Barkis, that means that, technically, she still loves him and she hasn't broken her promise. But that promise didn't say anything about marriage, did it?" When Barkis didn't respond, Victor got right in his face. "_Did_ it?"

"Oh, but... see here!" he protested. "That's not what she meant when she made me that promise!"

"Shall we talk about the promises _you_ made to _me,_ and what _you_ really meant?" Emily demanded. Her shocked expression had give way to the same death-scowl she'd given Barkis when she took his sword in her ribs, now that she realized she might not be subject to his whims after all.

"Yes, I think the young man is quite correct," Gutknecht decided with a nod. "Emily has not broken her promise, and the disgraced Lord has no place in this wedding. Lord Barkis, you may return to the South Side now."

"I defy you to make me go there, old man," the Lord said haughtily.

"We'd be happy to drag you there," Bonesapart threatened.

"But den ve'll miss de rest of de vedding!" General von Kavitty protested.

"That won't be necessary," Victor said. He gestured to the town park, of which Lookout Point was a part, and the ceremonial cannon parked nearby. General von Kavitty's skeletal face broke into a vicious smile – he'd always had a special affinity for artillery.

In spite of being dead and being burnt nearly black, Lord Barkis Bittern somehow managed to turn pale. "Oh, no! Not that!"

"Oh, yes! Please!" giggled Maggot, who was perched on the Elder's shoulder bone. "I've always wanted to see someone get cannonized!"

The two soldiers dragged the struggling nobleman to the cannon, stuffed him in feet-first, and plucked out one of his smoldering hairs. Bonesapart pulled the sword out of his chest and swung it downward with a shout of "Fire!" That was General von Kavitty's cue to put the smoldering hair to the touch-hole and fire the cannon. With a bang and a scream, Lord Barkis Bittern went flying across the town, leaving a black smoke trail behind him, to make a hard landing somewhere in the South Side. The crowd exclaimed, "Ooh!" as though they were watching a fireworks display.

"Will there be any more interruptions?" the Elder asked. Emily held her breath, such as it was. After a count of five, Gutknecht went on. "Very well, then. Let us continue... now, where we? Oh, yes. Victor, do you take Emily as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, in freshness and in decay, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall exist?"

"I do," he answered firmly and without hesitation.

"Emily, do you take Victor as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, in freshness and in decay, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall exist?"

"I do," she said confidently as she gazed into Victor's eyes.

"Victor, please speak your vows." She held her breath again (metaphorically speaking). He'd had trouble with his vows in the past; in fact, that was how they'd met. But he had no troubles today.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.  
"Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine." He took the Elder's goblet in his right hand.  
"With this candle, I will light your way in darkness." He nodded at the candle that the Elder held in his hand, since there was no altar here for him to put it on.  
"With this ring, I ask you to be mine." With his left hand, he held out the ring that had already had more than one owner, and was about to return to its first owner.

She smiled. "With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.  
"Your cup will never empty, as long as time endures." She took the wine bottle and poured a splash of wine into the goblet; he offered her a sip, then took one himself.  
"With this candle, I will light your way in darkness.  
"With this ring, please take me – I am yours." She daintily held out her skeletal left hand, and he slid the ring onto her ring finger.

Gutknecht nodded. "By the power vested in me by the Land of the Dead, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." Victor did so. It was quite a kiss; two of the adults covered the eyes of the kids so they wouldn't see. It was a good thing Emily didn't breathe anymore, or he would have left her breathless. But she would have been breathless anyway – they'd done it! They were married! Really, truly, no-turning-back married!

The Elder nodded, satisfied. "Well, it looks like you finally did it. Perhaps you might even keep each other out of trouble for a while. Let's return to the Ball and Socket for a reception party, shall we?" That suggestion was met with universal acclaim. Two of the skeletons linked their arms together into a seat of sorts, and they carried the Elder so the procession wouldn't take all night.

It took the happy couple longer to reach their destination than they'd expected, because the bride kept tripping over things in her path. She wasn't even trying to watch where she was going; her eyes were focused entirely on Victor. "Are we really married, darling?" she asked earnestly.

"It certainly wasn't a storybook wedding, but I think it did the job," he nodded. "I'm just sad that, whenever you remember our wedding day, you'll have to remember that beast of a man who tried to ruin it for us."

"I'll also remember how you came to my rescue and saved my wedding," she smiled. "_Our_ wedding. But is that the reason you don't look happy?"

"I suppose the main reason is that I was unhappy for so long, my face has forgotten _how_ to look happy," he answered. He certainly _felt_ happy, and he didn't want to upset his bride on her wedding day, but his face refused to cooperate. It was as though he'd forgotten how to smile. _She_ looked happy, and no one could mistake it; she was as radiant as any living bride. She began to dance while watching him, and tripped again, leaving the lower half of her skeletal leg behind. She hopped and managed to keep her balance. He reached for the leg, then pulled his hands back, looking very embarrassed. "Is it all right if I...?"

"Of course it is, darling – we're married!" she exclaimed, holding back a giggle. He was more nervous about touching her leg than the fact that it was skeletal! He picked up the leg and reattached it, still looking quite embarrassed. She resumed her dance; he just watched, mesmerized.

When they finally got to the club, the party was going full-blast. Paul, the head waiter, was in his element, giving orders of all kinds – drinks, snacks, extra chairs, even how loudly the jazz band should be playing. The room was decorated in white silhouettes of a bride and groom, with a centerpiece of dried red roses at every table. Everyone cheered when the guests of honor arrived and took their seats at the head table. A hush fell over the room as Bonejangles stood to offer the toast to the new couple.

"We all have seen some crazy things since each of us has died,  
"But nothing like the tale I'll tell – the tale of our corpse bride.  
"She had a man and loved him good, but he just did her wrong;  
"He took her jewels and left her dead, but that's another song."

"For years, she waited for a man who'd come and treat her good.  
"Then Victor came and married her, just like a husband should.  
"But then, things turned out real confused; they had to do it o'er,  
"And Emily, she let him go for one who loved him more."

"You're thinkin' that would be the end, but my song isn't done.  
"That fine young man came back to us and proved that he's the one.  
"He's sitting here beside our girl, and she has got his ring.  
"He's finally made her dream come true! O Death, where is your sting?"

"So, Emily, today's your day, and all your tears are dried.  
"Enjoy your marriage evermore! We love you, our corpse bride."

All the women wiped tears away from their eyes, even the skeletal ones whose eyes didn't cry anymore and who wiped as a matter of reflex. Then Mrs. Plum and her assistants brought out the meal. The dead didn't eat because they needed sustenance, but simply to enjoy the flavor of the food. Unfortunately, the longer one stayed dead, the deader one's sense of taste became, so Mrs. Plum's job was to add ever more exotic ingredients to the food so her patrons could taste something. Tonight, her secret ingredient was dried chili peppers, flavored with the worms from the bottoms of tequila bottles. More than one skeleton was seen to take a bite, breathe out fire, quickly guzzle whatever beverage was near to hand, and exclaim, "Nice!"

Once the meal was finished, the floor was cleared for dancing. Of course, the newlyweds had to take their first dance together; everybody knew that. The only problem was that Victor didn't know how to dance. "I promise I won't make you look bad," Emily whispered.

"You're so graceful, you'll make me look bad if you just bat an eyelash," he answered nervously. She batted her eyes at him and smiled mischievously. Then the music started. He focused on not stepping on her toes, and just followed her lead. She somehow led them without making it look like she was leading, and while Victor remained tense until the music stopped, the guests were pleased at what they saw. They all clapped; then the happy couple sat down while everyone else got up for a more energetic number.

When it was time to serve the wedding cake, a few of the guests held their breath (not literally). Would the bride or the groom mush the cake in each other's faces? Those who knew Emily were confident that she wouldn't, but they didn't know Victor that well. The children were hoping one of them would put on a messy show, and Bonesapart was almost leaping up and down so he could see the spectacle. Emily served her husband his cake delicately. He cut a slice with mischief in his eye, served it to his bride with all politeness and respect... and then spun and mushed it in Bonesapart's face. The crowd cheered.

At last, Bonejangles dismissed the band and announced, "It's time for the happy couple to retire for the night! You know what I mean?" As Victor and Emily rose, they were startled to watch all the other guests rise as well.

"Uhh… isn't this supposed to be a private moment?" Victor stammered.

"We all chipped in to get you two a wedding present," explained Arthur, the skeleton with the handlebar moustache. "We want to see your reaction to it. Then we'll leave you alone." Everyone followed the newlyweds to Emily's chamber, a shabby room with cobwebs on the ceiling and virtually nothing in the way of furniture. But at some point during the day, that had changed. The room had been scrubbed clean (except for Mrs. Black Widow's current web) and was now partially filled with an almost-new-looking baby grand piano.

Emily was speechless. Victor walked around it, appreciating the quality. "Nice. Very, _very_ nice. It's a Bönesendorfer – that's one of the best. I think."

"Nothing but the best for you two!" Bonejangles stated. "Now, play us a song!" Victor nodded, sat down at the piano, and began playing a familiar melody by Beethoven.

"Für Elise," Emily nodded.

"Actually, it's für Emily," he said as he played, without looking up.

"It's beautiful," she agreed as she sat next to him, "but how about something we can play together?"

"Something that _moves!_" Bonejangles added.

Victor stopped, thought for a moment, and launched into the most energetic piece he knew – the third movement from Mozart's 23rd piano concerto. As soon as he finished the first notes of the piano part, Emily skillfully added the orchestra's echoing parts on the lower keys. When she ran out of hands to play all the notes, he reached across both her hands to add the bassoon part. Soon, their four hands were all over the keyboard, alternating between the piano solos and the other instruments' parts as they played. They frequently crossed and recrossed their hands, but never collided or got tangled. It was an amazing performance, done without a score and without a rehearsal; it was as though one musical mind was controlling all four of their hands at once. The guests stood silently, drinking in the torrent of notes that poured out of the piano. Even the jazz musicians, who didn't care much for Mozart, realized they were seeing and hearing something special.

As they played, Emily kept stealing glances at Victor. She couldn't keep the smile off her face as she remembered another piano duet, seemingly such a long time ago, that had begun to bring the two of them together. He was playing as well as ever, but very seriously. Again she smiled at him, and this time she held the smile until he made eye contact in return. He gazed at her.

Slowly, almost agonizingly, he smiled back.

Emily's cup of joy overflowed at last. She forgot all about Mozart and threw her arms around her husband, right in the middle of his cadenza. Victor was startled for a moment; then he returned the embrace. The music was over for now. They heard, rather than saw, the wedding guests file out of the room and leave them alone.

"It's just the two of us now," she whispered.

"Do we... uhh... do we do what living people do on their wedding night?" he asked nervously. He'd already experienced such things with Victoria, of course, but Emily was just so beautiful to him, he couldn't help feeling a bit anxious.

"No, I'm sorry, we can't," she answered regretfully. "That sort of thing doesn't work, now that we're dead – we don't feel pain, but we don't feel pleasure, either. And I can't offer you children; the dead can't bring forth life." She looked sad for a moment. "I hope you aren't too disappointed, Victor darling."

"Disappointed?" he echoed her. "I'm married to you! How could that be a disappointment?" His smile was unforced and genuine now. "I can still hug you, can't I?"

"Yes," she smiled back.

"And I can still kiss you, can't I?" he went on, stroking her cheek with his fingertips.

"Yes, for as long as we have lips," she answered. She liked where this conversation was going.

"And we can cuddle together all night long, can't we?"

"Yes, we can," she sighed eagerly.

"Then I think we're going to have a perfectly wonderful wedding night," he decided. They did, too. But they didn't stop after that first night. In fact, for the next few years, when they weren't playing the piano together or learning to dance together, they spent an extraordinary amount of time hugging and kissing and cuddling together.

No one objected. After all, they were newlyweds, and they were in love. Besides, for Emily, the simple joys of love and marriage were long overdue. She had a lot of catching-up to do, and she only had until the end of time to do it. She couldn't wait to get started.

The man she could finally call "husband" couldn't wait, either. Perhaps, in love, they were perfectly matched.

_The End_

**o**

_A/N  
This story had a rather remarkable genesis. I started writing it in my head before I saw the movie! I'd seen some clips on YouTube, I had a pretty good idea of what the movie was about, and I quickly realized I had one strong desire – to see Emily get a happier ending than the one Tim Burton gave her. Once I got the DVD and watched it a few times, I knew I had to finish this tale. This story concept is probably old and moldy; I haven't had the chance to go through all the fanfics on this site, even though the fandom for "Corpse Bride" is so much smaller than the fandoms I usually write for, namely "How to Train Your Dragon" and "Frozen." I don't know how many similar stories are out there, or whether any of my ideas are original. But this is my version, and I hope you liked it._

_I like Emily. A lot. She is so kind and unselfish throughout the film; she deserves better than oblivion, even if oblivion is an improvement on her previous fate. Unfortunately, that means I had to move Victoria out of the picture somehow, since neither of them is the polygamous type. Fortunately for her, "Corpse Bride" isn't like most other fandoms. Unlike stories in those other fandoms, death is not the end here. It can even be a new beginning. I think long and hard before killing a beloved character in my other chosen fandoms; here, it's more of a transition than an ending, and it can be a useful plot device._

_As I usually do, I threw in a few references to other stories, including "The Court Jester" and Disney's "Robin Hood," and I rewrote a song from the movie with new lyrics ("Tears to Shed"). Victor's wine in Chapter 6 is called "Mort Lô," a play on the French words "merlot" (a kind of wine) and "mort" (death). The piano's name is a play on "Bösendorfer," an Austrian company which is a highly-regarded maker of pianos. If you aren't familiar with the pieces of classical music that Victor and Emily play, they're easy to find on YouTube._

**o**

A final ficlet: what happened to Victoria?

A few months after the wedding, Victoria and Bonejangles went out on a date, with Emily as a chaperone. (Bonejangles didn't like the idea of a chaperone, but those were Victoria's terms, take it or leave it.) They found that there was no chemistry at all between them; they thanked each other for a fairly pleasant evening, and that was that. The evening was not wasted, though – not even close. It helped Victoria realize that no man could ever take Victor's place in her heart, so she didn't try to find another man after that. But she and Emily frequently took a girls' night out together, and began to rebuild their relationship as sisters. That relationship was precious to both of them, but especially to Victoria. After all that she had lost, it was good to gain something.


End file.
